


Fix

by yukiscorpio



Category: The Last Remnant
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David gets a visitor.</p><p>Takes place a few years after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1325260">Rush</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a few years after [Rush](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1325260). Naturally, David/Rush is mentioned, but this fic is about Qubine, whose secret was mentioned but not revealed in the previous story.

"Is this a bad time?"

The voice made David jump out of his seat. A figure stepped out from the secret door beside the dresser. A smile curled David's lips, and he went to the visitor.

"Qubine, it's been a while."

Wait, something wasn't right. As the hood fell back from Qubine's face, David could see that he was unusually pale, and he was straining to focus. Qubine wasn't visiting to say hello.

With great care, David removed Qubine's wool cloak so that he could to assess the damage.

"My apologies... I messed up."

There was a lot of blood. Not all of it was Qubine's, David presumed, and some was old and dried, forming spatters on Qubine's clothes like paint on the apron of an artist, telltale of what took place in the weeks since David last saw him.

"Take a seat."

Upon examination, the main injury appeared to be the rips across the back of Qubine's shoulders, caused probably by claws sharp enough to tear through metal armour.

"I got careless. Was attacked from behind."

It was too painful to even look at. David didn't know what his expression was right now, but Qubine narrowed his eyes.

"Don't pity me David. Just fix it."

Just like he once did many years ago during a battle they seemed doomed to lose, David began to remove the layers on Qubine, except Qubine was now a youth of seventeen, almost as tall as David, fey and lithe under his armour, and -

Oh. Oh gosh. David could not possibly...

Well, although it was usual for all clothes to be shed for wound healing, there was no need to remove every layer just to treat the shoulders. So he left the rest alone, rinsed the area and then channeled healing arts, the mystic energy drawing a very soft sigh from his friend.

After a moment, Qubine chuckled.

"Hmm?"

"You are embarrassed," Qubine said, looking down at himself, at the final layer of garment which David had left untouched, a wide band of cloth that was wrapped tightly round and round his chest and then fastened with pins. "That is unexpected."

"I just... for this injury it's not necessary to remove everything."

"You've seen me before."

David swallowed hard. "You were ten."

"Eleven. Granted, I was small for my age."

"Regardless. You were - "

"Undeveloped, and you were unaware."

David nodded. Silence fell over them, there was no sound apart from the hum of mystic art and Qubine's breathing, which gradually became less laboured.

A hand reached for the discarded shirt. "My thanks. Sorry for calling all of a sudden."

"Don't worry about that." There was blood on the floor. It would have to be cleaned up before the morning. "Have you eaten? I'll - please don't do that."

Qubine was mopping up the blood with his shirt. "It's all right. I shall be leaving."

"You shall not." David wasn't sure if he was worried or annoyed. "Wait here. I'll get you some food and a change of clothes."

"David."

"Please, don't be a stranger."

A frown. A sigh. A reluctant nod.

David returned with leftovers from the night's dinner, and clean clothes. The bathroom was in use, so he rapped on the door and then left the clothes nearby.

Some time later, a clean and freshly dressed Qubine helped himself to the food on offer.

"I did not think that you would own a plain shirt," he said.

"It's Rush's."

"Ah. Where is your other half anyway?"

"Visiting relatives."

"He is well?"

"Yes." David sat down and poured tea for them both. "As is Athlum. Celapaleis, however, is quite unlike her old self without you."

It was rather a more forceful topic change than David intended, but he would rather get to it sooner than later.

Qubine tipped his head and pouted, looking nonchalant. "That could be a good thing."

David smirked. "You know that is not the case."

"Is it becoming a problem to you, as an unstable neighbour?"

"Not quite." Not yet, anyway. "But your land is struggling."

"You're mistaken. It isn't my land - I'm no lord anymore. Or lady, for that matter."

"And your ministers know they had made a mistake rejecting you over such a minor detail. Already there are calls to reinstate you."

Again, Qubine seemed unconcerned. And, in truth, David didn't want to push the issue. He - _she_ , technically, but Qubine said he couldn't care less about pronouns and David was used to _he_ \- was experiencing the world, free of obligations, free from everything. No one was able to pinpoint his whereabouts these days, but David saw him occasionally, having asked - as a friend, not as a lord - Qubine to get in touch once in a while.

And, as a friend, David wanted Qubine to live life as he wanted, even if it meant Qubine would steal his way into the castle at night and leave blood on the floor. But he was also aware that Qubine still cared deeply about Celapaleis, no matter how much he shrugged at it. So he wanted to make sure Qubine knew the option to return was there.

Qubine cleaned the lasts of the stew with a bit of bread. "Is my sex truly a minor detail? It certainly bothers you that I have breasts."

As if Qubine's ability to rule had any relation to whether or not David thought it appropriate to see him topless.

"I would not... It's impolite to look!"

Qubine was wry. "I jest, David. But as a point of reference, I like wearing bindings because armour is much less uncomfortable over a flat chest, that is all. I care very little about my chest, and about you seeing it."

"Ah... fine, I will keep that in mind."

"There is very little to see anyway."

David buried his face in a hand and laughed, impoliteness be damned. It was awkward and yet so very liberating, talking about this.

"You say that like you plan to spill blood on my floor again."

"I did make sure to wipe it off before the grout was stained."

"Yes, because that is so very much the point I am trying to make." David smiled, and shook his head. "Come on, you should rest now. You're still recovering."

They settled down, David in his bed and Qubine on the chaise longue.

"It's good to see you," David said in the darkness.

"Thank you."

Perhaps David should say something more. That Qubine needed to be more careful. That he should stay away from danger. That Celapaleis was hoping for his return. But Qubine didn't need to be told what to do.

And really, that was all very trivial.

"How is it so far?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it fun?"

A pause.

"Yes. Very much so."

This, here. This was all that mattered.

"Good."


End file.
